


i who would build a star

by blackkat



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [107]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Found Family, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 00:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: It should probably be more of a surprise than it is for Iruka to find his lover of fourteen months shivering on his doorstep, the blond little boy that Konoha has been searching so desperately for clutched in his arms.





	i who would build a star

It should probably be more of a surprise than it is for Iruka to find his lover of fourteen months shivering on his doorstep, the blond little boy that Konoha has been searching so desperately for clutched in his arms.

“Tobi?” Iruka says, pausing in the doorway, because this is the Tobi he saw in quiet moments, not the hyperactive masked nin who plays the fool so well. The Tobi from their nights together, their talks, and it takes Iruka a moment to fit him into the framework of seeing him in relative public, even if the downpour has driven most of Konoha indoors.

“It’s Obito,” Tobi admits, and the long hair Iruka has always liked so much is scorched, burned halfway up his back instead of falling past his waist. A cut seeping white fluid down his arm is more alarming, though, as is what Iruka can see of a stab wound in his side where his cloak gapes open.

“Obito,” Iruka amends, swallowing, and looks at the seven-year-old he’s carrying. The Kyuubi jinchuuriki, he knows. _Has_ known for months now, and suspected right from the first time he met Tobi and the boy who might as well be his son, but—

He swallows, thinks of Naruto's bright _Tobi took me away from the mean people and I love him!_ that always answered his questions to the boy about whether he was happy, safe. Steps back, puling the door open with him, and smiles even through the curl of fear he still can't quite escape. “You’re soaked,” he says.

Obito is shivering, looks exhausted—there are dark circles under his eyes, tight lines around his mouth. He swallows, even as he steps into the apartment, and Iruka can see his arms tighten around the sleeping child. “I didn’t—I didn’t know where else to go,” he says helplessly, just standing in the entranceway, and Iruka’s heard that tone before. Obito's entire world has come crashing down around him, and he’s staring at the aftermath, trying to find a way forward.

It’s a familiar feeling, Iruka thinks wryly.

“Do I want to know how you found out where I live?” he asks, but it’s a halfhearted complaint, and he pulls a towel from the hall closet without hesitation, tosses it over Obito's head. It makes Obito flinch, take a step back, and Iruka pauses, suddenly unsure. He meets one dark eye, full of something like fear or resignation or grim determination, and has to swallow hard.

“You’re lucky I have an extra futon for Naruto,” he says, and means _you're always welcome here_. More gently this time, he wraps the towel around Obito's shoulders, unzips his cloak and lets it slide down into a soaked puddle around his feet, then helps him step out of his sandals. “Is he okay? Do you need the medical kit?”

“It’s just a seal keeping him asleep. It will wear off by tomorrow,” Obito says hoarsely, standing passively under Iruka’s hands as Iruka dries him off, and he’s always so deliberate in his movements, even when he’s acting as Tobi, but this is something different. Exhaustion, both emotional and physical, Iruka thinks. Shinobi coming off really bad long-term missions look like that, sometimes. He wonders just how bad Obito's mission was.

 There's always been an undercurrent to Tobi, something dark and jagged and sad, and Iruka would be lying if he said that wasn’t one of the things that drew him to Tobi in the first place, that turned a chance encounter on the road into months of meetings and nights spent together. Right now it’s at the forefront, even though Iruka had been sure it was easing, that Obito's heart was lightening.

Iruka steels himself a little, reaches out. Brushes back shaggy blond hair, and has to smile at the way Naruto is drooling on Obito's shoulder. “I meant we need the medical kit for _you_ ,” he says pointedly, because there's definitely blood on Obito's clothes, along with the strange white substance.

Obito looks down in surprise, like he didn’t even realize he was injured, and then his mouth twists in a bitter smile. “It will heal,” he says, and turns his head, looking around Iruka’s small apartment like he’s assessing threats, finding exits. “We can be gone by morning,” he says roughly, and gathers Naruto a little more tightly in his arms, cradling him against his shoulder. “I just—I was hoping we could sleep here.”

 _Where it’s safe_ , Iruka hears, and it makes something soften in his chest. Reaching out, he catches Obito's elbow, tugs him gently into the house. “Have you eaten?” he asks.

“I don’t need to.” Obito casts him a wry smile, but he follows Iruka’s direction, lets Iruka pull him towards the main room. The shivers aren’t quite dying down, but Naruto seems warm enough as Obito lays him on the couch, pulls the blanket off the arm to cover him. “Thanks,” he says, without looking at Iruka, and the curve of his shoulders is something deep and so very, very tired.

Iruka presses a hand to his spine, pulls him a step closer. It’s a relief when Obito leans into him, eye falling shut as he lets out a breath, body slumping against Iruka’s. That tremor—it’s not just cold, Iruka thinks. Exertion, the edges of chakra exhaustion, and he’s seen Obito disappear before, vanish from space and reappear somewhere else entirely, but it’s never left him looking like this.

“Do you mind leaving him out here?” he asks, and when that black eye slides open, when Obito looks up at him with tension starting to curl through his body, Iruka rolls his eyes. “Not _leave_ ,” he says tartly. “But the blankets on my bed are warmest, and you look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

Obito swallows, laughs, and it’s ragged in his throat. “I haven’t,” he admits. “But they wanted to pull Kurama out of Naruto and I thought they’d take him the minute I shut my eyes.”

That’s—Iruka can hardly imagine that level of terror, constant and unrelenting. It looks like the problem is at least behind him, like he managed to get away, but Iruka can still see the edges of it in his face. And—between that and the fact that Naruto has been put under the sealing equivalent of a drugged sleep—

“The seal?” he asks, more than a little horrified.

Obito's eye slides shut again, and he nods against Iruka’s shoulder. “Zetsu overpowered me,” he says. “I thought—but I got to him in time.” A laugh, vicious and bitter, and he presses his face into Iruka’s shirt. “The first time in my _life_ I've made it on time,” he says.

“Then I'm glad it counted,” Iruka says softly, because this is obviously a raw wound, still open and bleeding. He drags his fingers through long hair, careful of the hot, reddened skin he can feel across Obito's shoulders and neck, and says, “Bed?”

Obito makes a sound that’s mostly amusement. “Between you trying so hard to get me into your room and those trashy novels you like, I'm starting to think you’re a closet perv,” he says, but his fingers lace through Iruka’s and tighten.

Iruka flushes, hot across his cheeks, and splutters before he can stop himself. “I—that’s not—!”

“Not where you got that idea last time we met up?” Obito asks, because he’s a bastard. Iruka huffs and knuckles him hard in the ribs—not on his stabbed side, because he has at least _that_ much sense—but can't actually deny it. The Icha Icha series has some very creative ideas and Obito is so flexible, and Iruka just wanted to see if it was _possible_ —

He’s so bright red it feels like his face is on fire, and Obito is smiling, worn but truly amused. Iruka should probably mind more, but he’s always loved Tobi’s smile, and Obito's is even sweeter. Or maybe that’s just because of escaping whoever wanted to extract the bijuu from Naruto.

Konoha has a jinchuuriki within its walls again. The thought makes Iruka swallow, embarrassment washed away by nerves, and he glances at the little boy curled on the couch, fast asleep. The first few months he and Tobi were meeting he’d thought that Naruto just had an imaginary friend he talked to, but—

He’d seen red eyes in the hotel doorway, one dark night. Had seen Naruto's mouth open and another voice come out, addressing Obito, warning him of someone approaching. Obito had left right after, and Iruka had lain in the rented room until the sun rose, sleepless, worrying, trying to work out just what he had seen.

A jinchuuriki, Obito had told him the next time they met. The words were a challenge, a dare to find anything wrong with Naruto. Naruto, who had the Kyuubi inside of him, who smiled and laughed and talked to a giant construct of chakra and malice and let the Kyuubi borrow his body sometimes.

It’s still bewildering to think about, but—Iruka’s had almost a year to adjust. This is just a startling circumstance, and he’ll be fine.

“Come on,” he says, and tugs Obito towards the hall. “All my traps are set.”

That makes Obito relax a little, the set of his shoulders easing, and he finally lets Iruka steer him towards the bedroom. Stumbles a little, and Iruka catches his breath, tries not to think about all the lectures on chakra exhaustion and its danger that he’s given his students. Obito is probably twenty, maybe a little over—he should _know_ better, but all shinobi should and none of them _do_ , and—

“You're an idiot,” he tells Obito, helping him over to the bed, and spills him down onto the mattress with a sharp tug.

Obito doesn’t even try to resist, just closes his eyes with a ragged laugh. “Yeah,” he agrees, and when Iruka tugs the long blue robe from his shoulders he shifts up just enough to get it off, then wiggles out of his wet pants. The stab wound in his side is deep, but it’s no longer seeping blood, and when Iruka ghosts a tentative touch close to it Obito doesn’t even flinch. He just reaches for Iruka, grabs him and pulls him down as well, and when Iruka wraps his arms around him Obito curls into his chest, still shivering.

“You need a chakra transfusion,” Iruka says, sharp because he’s bad at being worried. “The hospital—”

“Can't help me,” Obito finishes for him, firm. “I just need sunlight, or even skin contact. As long as you don’t mind me taking some of your chakra.”

He mentioned something about absorbing chakra, once, but Iruka had forgotten. It makes some of the concern ease, though, and he drags his own shirt up and off, pulls Obito in and curls around him, and feels the low, warm laugh that vibrates through him.

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go,” Obito says, and Iruka knots his fingers in long hair.

“I'm glad you came to me,” he says truthfully, because some of the happiest moments in his life have been the days he’s able to meet Obito, the weeks he’s spent wandering the roads with Oto and Naruto. It’s like having a family again, and Iruka has been meaning for _months_ now to say _come back to Konoha, stay with me, live with me forever_ , but…he’s always lost his nerve at the very last moment.

There's a sound, maybe a laugh, maybe a sob. “I’m the one who set Kurama on Konoha,” Obito says, a jagged, sharp-edged confession.

Iruka takes a breath that shakes, but—

Naruto and the Kyuubi inside of him are asleep on his couch. He’s seen Obito's Sharingan eye. He’s put the pieces together, because he’s not stupid.

“I know,” he whispers, and there are tears against his chest, hot and wet. This time, the tremor that shakes through Obito is for another reason entirely, and Iruka wraps his arms around him, holds him tighter as he cries, and it hurts, it _hurts_ , but—

It’s warm with the blankets over them, the sound of the rain outside. Obito is in his arms, and Iruka’s been able to see his regret for months now. Has seen his care, and the desperate, devoted way he loves Naruto, and regardless of what he’s done that much has never, ever changed.

“Stay,” he says into Obito's hair, into scarred skin, and Obito laughs through the tears and kisses him.

“Yes,” he answers, and Iruka can hear all the things Obito means without him needing to say another word.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Those Who Have Seen Your Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921618) by [AislingKaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislingKaye/pseuds/AislingKaye)




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